


at three a.m. at some shitty house party in south philly

by bonca



Series: one hundred days of prompts [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 23:17:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonca/pseuds/bonca
Summary: Phil wants to hold his hand, and drunkenly giggle into him. He wants to lean his head on Dan’s shoulder, and sway slightly to the humming of the music. Phil wants Dan, and so his hands are reaching for a drink.





	at three a.m. at some shitty house party in south philly

It’s New Year's Eve, and there's a party. There’s always a party. There’s always too much alcohol involved and each and every year Louise gets called childish for wanting to play truth or dare, but everyone plays along anyways. There's always a few sneaking off into bathrooms, and every few years there's a fight, but it’s still a good party nonetheless. This year is no different. It’s New Year’s Eve and yet another party is obligatory.

Dan and Phil are sat at the couch, not yet pouring over each other, but instead watching the others who are notably drunker. Every few minutes or so, Dan giggles at the shouted statements, slurred as they’re spoken by their friends, and Phil can’t help but watch. The way his eyes crinkle at the edges, and his chin sits upon his palm; it makes Phil’s slightly tipsy heart tingle. It makes him itch to touch Dan. Phil wants to hold his hand, and drunkenly giggle into him. He wants to lean his head on Dan’s shoulder, and sway slightly to the humming of the music. Phil wants Dan, and so his hands are reaching for a drink.

They take turns taking swigs from the white bottle that Phil’s too distracted to read. He’s more concentrated on the fact that tonight is the last night of the year; yet another year he’s spent attached to Dan’s hip, and he doesn't want it to go to waste. Tonight, he can’t think of a better way to spend New Year's Eve than being close enough to Dan that their heartbeats can align, and they can hear, see and feel nothing but each other.

The lights are softly glowing, casting shadows upon Dan’s dimpled cheeks. Empty party cups line the tables, and some scatter and pour onto the carpet. The bunting that was set up earlier has fallen, along with some framed pictures that thread through the cream walls, and all of the balloons have settled at the ceiling. 

The music is definitely louder now. It’s a song to listen to rather than a song to fill the silence, because there's no longer a silence to fill, and there's a need to dance. Phil grabs a hold of Dan’s hand that was before sat in his lap, and pulls him to stand.

“What? I’m not – I’m not dancing, Phil.” Making no efforts to loosen Phil’s grip, Dan hums. Phil is never one for listening, though, especially when it means he and Dan are missing out, so he interlocks his fingers with Dan’s and wades through the bubbling crowd. 

They stand, both hands now tied in knots with each other, under the blue lights, and stare. Phil’s shoulders rise and fall when he breathes, after leading them through the maze of stuttering people. They stand and stare at each other, almost in awe, before Dan smiles and leans in a little.

Phil cups his hand around Dan’s waist, and Dan follows suit. They keep one of their hands locked. Dan’s insides twist and knot, a familiar yet unnamed feeling filling his body. In time with the music, they slowly sway back and forth, focused on nothing but each other. Dan stares into the oceans upon oceans of cyans and lilacs of Phil’s eyes, and feels so lost in the depths of them that he feels as though he’s drowning. He moves to look at Phil’s lips, slightly chapped but ridiculously kissable nonetheless, and Dan gets a little carried away. He gnaws down on his own bottom lip, and his foot lands on Phil’s. 

After trying and failing to salvage the dance, Dan giggles and rests his forehead forwards into the crook of Phil’s neck, and breathes out. They still sway, and it probably looks a bit silly; Phil whispering nothings into Dan’s ear, and Dan giggling and squirming from Phil’s gentle kisses, but they don't care. They dance under the lights, and the countdown to twelve begins.


End file.
